All The Young Punks Pt. 21

"It's Lola," Joe said defensively. "I was just messing around."

"I know the song, Joe."

Joe looked at Lana, and then Tina. He reached over and turned his amp off. Tina stared at him. Lana stared at Tina. Joe set his guitar down and stood up.

"Are you jealous? He asked.

"No. I just think it's... strange that you'd sing to my roommate and not me."

"She's jealous," Lana said with a smirk. "So, you haven't seen this side of her." Lana nodded.

"I'm not jealous."

"You're jealous." Lana looked at Joe. "She's jealous. You better get used to it." Lana smiled and walked into her room. When the door closed behind her, Tina walked over to Joe.

"I'm not jealous." She kissed him on the cheek.

After a week of hospital visits, it was clear Simon had plenty of support. The hard punks were Joe's new heroes. Tommy visited almost every day. His punks took shifts. With Tina and Lana busy with school, it was time for Joe to go home and deal with his band problems. First, he had one final mission.

---- STOLEN - REWARD - NO QUESTIONS ---

Weeks ago, after Joe had commented on Simon's Royal Air Force flight jacket, Simon insisted it was genuine WW2 leather. He explained that his uncles served in the RAF during the war, one didn't survive, but he offered no details at the time.

On his last day in town, Joe sat by his hospital bed, with Tommy present, seeking more information. "Your RAF leather was your uncle's jacket?" Joe asked.

"No. It was a gift from my Uncle Edward. He flew bomber missions over Germany. His older brother George flew Spitfires."

"What side of the family?" Joe asked.

"My dad's the youngest of four, he wasn't old enough to serve. Even his sister was a nurse at an airfield in Filton. He's still bitter that he missed the fight."

"I'm still bitter I was sent to fight," Tommy said. TG was a marine in Vietnam.

Simon went somber. "George didn't come home. He was lost over the channel. I look exactly like him, and that chafes my father."

"When did you get the jacket?" Tommy asked. "Was it your uncle's?"

"No. He would never give his leather away. As a kid, I admired Uncle Edward's flight jacket. On my sixteenth birthday, he took me to an Army surplus store. My dad hated that too. He said the uniform should be earned."

"What's the deal with your old man?" Joe asked. "He sounds like a hard ass."

"He is. My father is a know-it-all. His opinions are the only ones that matter and he loves knocking other people down for their shite opinions. Or in my case, choices he disapproves of."

Joe looked at Tommy, then Simon. "I know you called them. Is someone coming over to check on you?"

"My Mum is flying over. I don't know when, but soon."

After visiting with Simon, Joe and Tommy returned to the club. Tommy kept a Polaroid camera behind the bar. From time to time he'd insert a film cartridge and let the punks shoot. The best of these photos were displayed on the Wall of Shame, a corkboard that ran the length of the hallway leading to the restrooms. There was always a line for the ladies' room, so Tommy gave them something to look at, instant photos of drunk punks partying. Simon appeared in many, usually in his leather. Joe selected three photos that best showed the RAF patch, Union Jack, and the clusters of seven small leather studs Simon has affixed to the top of each shoulder. He brought them to a print shop to have a flier made.

STOLEN - $100 REWARD for any information leading to the recovery of this brown leather, custom studded, RAF flight jacket - No questions asked.

Joe provided the hard punks with five hundred fliers to post around Hell's Kitchen, Chelsea, and The Village. The no-questions assurance was bullshit. He had it printed, but made it clear to Simon's friends, "We'll be asking fucking questions."

Two days later, after Joe had gone home. Tommy gave Simon a copy. "We have eyes on the ground," Tommy said. "This flier is in dozens of subway stations."

"It's in bars and markets too," added Zip. "It's probably the only chance we have of getting the asshole who did this to you."

"I talked to the cops this morning," Tommy said. "They have nothing, and I don't think they give a fuck."

******

After settling his flier business at Tommy's, Joe returned to Jones Street with pizza. He told his roommates he was taking the night off as manservant because he had an early train to catch. That's how he informed Tina he was going back to RI. She didn't like it.

"You're leaving in the morning, just like that? You didn't tell me."

"I just did. My train is in fourteen hours."

"That seems like sufficient notice to me," Lana said, with a cheese sticking to her lip.

"Mind your business," Tina glared at her.

"Hey, T." Joe looked her in the eye, an earnest gaze. "I was here for an extra week. Simon is improving. He has people checking in daily. His mother is making arrangements to fly over. I met Lana. Now I have shit to deal with back home. You have classes all week and a new job. What am I gonna do all day? My sisters are pissed off at me. I have to go home."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I wish I could stay. Believe me. There's probably less stress here."

After pizza, they retired to their purple and pink sanctuary. Joe held her, giving her a rough estimate of how long he might be in Providence, considering all possibilities.

"If Johnny goes to rehab I have no clue how long that is, but I assume it's weeks or a couple of months. I'll come back sooner if he's gone that long."

"Like when?"

"I don't know. I have to go back to figure this out."

"I'm gonna miss you so much. I love you, Joe."

Joe sighed. "I guess one of us had to say it first. I'm glad it was you." He had big eyes.

"I never saw this coming," she said. "You came out of nowhere."

"I came out of that bedroom." He pointed toward Lana's room.

She poked him for his dumb joke. She looked up at him. Joe watched her expression slowly turn to concern. He waited another moment. She squirmed uncomfortably, then he let her off the hook.

"I loved you the day we met."

She lightly punched his chest. "I wish you wouldn't joke like that."

---- TEARS ---

The following morning, Joe stood in the bedroom, in his underwear, packing his duffel bag and backpack. "I'm gonna leave my amp here," he said. "I won't be needing it for a while. And my white Tele, I'm taking the Jag home."

"What if you want to play?"

"I'm thinking about buying a new amp, something with more oomph than my Champ."

"Can I leave some clothes in your closet?" He winced. "I know that's valuable real estate, but I bought too many things here and can't take them all back."

"I'll work out a rental agreement, and you can pay me." She reached down, cupping his package. "I'm sure we can come to some agreement."

"Sex for a few clothes hangers? I told ya, you Catholic girls are easy."

She squeezed his bulge hard, "I am not easy!"

"Okay, okay... but every negotiation with you has sex on the table."

Tina hugged him. "I'm gonna hate sleeping alone."

"You slept alone before you met me."

"Yes, but now that I have you... it's different." Tina kissed him. "My first class isn't until 11:45. You could take a later train. We have time..." She squeezed his package.

Lying in bed after a sweaty hour of bon voyage sex, Tina lay with her head on Joe's chest. "Tell me about your sisters. You haven't said much about them. I know their names and ages, but not about them." She kissed his nipple and looked up, "And I know you love them."

"You have no idea. They're everything to me, and I feel awful that I broke promises. They look up to me, and they trust me. It's gonna be hard when I get back. Mom will be brutal. I'll get the Catholic guilt trip, drama, and judgment, but not from the girls. They'll just be disappointed that I let them down... especially Jackie."

"Tell me about her."

"She'll be fifteen in November. Jackie surprises me all the time with her maturity. She's pragmatic and responsible, and she has incredible... I guess intuition is the right word. The guy that ends up with her will have his hands full. He won't get away with shit. Jackie is tough."

"What about Julie? She's the second one, right?"

"Yes. She's almost the opposite of Jackie. Jules is very sensitive and she's a bit whiny at times. She's a bookworm, always reading, loves to learn, and has endless curiosity. Jeanie does too. They're always asking questions as if I know everything. Jules is also kind of needy. As I said, the opposite of Jackie."

"And Jeanie?"

"She's my flakey sister. Jeanie is fun and creative. She loves singing and dancing. Of the three, she's the most positive. She never says a bad thing about anyone. She reminds me so much of..." Joe stopped, deciding to not mention Janie. He had not yet told Tina of his loss. "Jeanie is the free spirit in the family."

There was a long silence. Tina held him close. "Ya know. It sounds like they're each a part of you. They all have something you have. You're responsible and pragmatic, like Jackie. Jules is bookish and sensitive, and so are you." Tina raised her head to look at Joe. "And the creativity and fun, and singing, is something you share with Jeanie."

Tina crawled up to kiss Joe. "It sounds like you're a compilation of your sisters."

"I never thought of that."

When it was time for Joe to leave, he stood in the doorway with as much as he could carry. It killed him that Tina was sobbing.

"I promise I'll be back soon," he said. "As soon as I get back to Providence I'll assess the band situation. Then I'll start planning my future depending on what's going on there."

"After that, I get two weeks a month," she said weepily.

"Once the band is whole again, whenever that is." Joe pulled her close. "Remember, I want to see you as much as you want to see me."

"Sleeping alone is going to suck?"

"I know, baby." It killed him to see her tears.

Sitting in Penn Station waiting for his Amtrak ride north, Joe did what he'd been doing for days. He pondered what he might walk into when he arrived home; his mother, his sisters, his band, and someone he hadn't considered for weeks, Claire. He had no clue how bad it would be but he was bracing for the worst. He hoped that all the work he'd done to build his band wasn't shattered.